"I _will_, sir," said the man, and was over the hedge in another minute.

But not before Harry was over the railway. For he rode gently towards it,
as if nothing particular was to be done, and chose as the best spot one
close to where several of the gentlemen stood, disputing for a moment as
to which was the best way to get across. Now on the top of the cutting
there was a rail, and between the rail and the edge of the cutting a space
of about four feet. Harry trotted his mare gently up to the rail, and went
over. Nor was the mutual confidence of mare and master misplaced from
either side. She lighted and stood stock still within a foot of the slope,
so powerful was she to stop herself. An uproar of cries arose among the
men. I heard the old soldier's voice above them all.

"Damn you, Armstrong, you fool!" he cried; "you'll break your neck, and
serve you right too!"

I don't know a stronger proof that the classical hell has little hold on
the faith of the Saxons, than that good-hearted and true men will not
unfrequently damn their friends when they are most anxious to save them.
But before the words were half out of the colonel's mouth, Harry was
half-way down the cutting. He had gone straight at it like a cat, and it
was of course the only way. I had galloped to the edge after him, and now
saw him, or rather her, descending by a succession of rebounds--not
bounds--a succession, in fact, of short falls upon the fore-legs, while
Harry's head was nearly touching her rump. Arrived at the bottom, she gave
two bounds across the rails, and the same moment was straining right up
the opposite bank in a fierce agony of effort, Harry hanging upon her
neck. Now the mighty play of her magnificent hind quarters came into
operation. I could see, plainly enough across the gulf, the alternate